


always we, my love

by ElasticElla



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: The Screw Job, F/F, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 17:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Devan’s unconscious, barely breathing, bleeding out onto the floor, and there’s only one thing left to do. It'd be best to kill the three, but better now to just survive.





	always we, my love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sixtywattgloom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtywattgloom/gifts).



Dren glances from the three murderous party members to Devan. Devan’s unconscious, barely breathing, bleeding out onto the floor, and there’s only one thing left to do. It'd be best to kill the three, but better now to just survive. Clasping the pendant around her neck, the single magic item she always carries, she runs over to Devan. 

Delweth realizes what she’s doing first, summoning magic around her like an angry cloud. But Dren _needs_ this so much more, and there’s always a little extra magic in necessity. 

Dren and Devan teleport away, Tarvis screaming that they’ll find them wherever they go. 

Obby’s low voice carries further than it should, “Obby is glad. Like rat, Obby does not like killing friends.” 

The very last thing Dren hears is the low growl of more dogs entering the room, or being reanimated, and a sick, dizzying relief swallows her up as they land in her safe house. 

Every good assassin has at least one safe house that _no one_ else knows about. The better ones have three or four or even more than they’re willing to admit. Dren’s other places are no longer safe- from injured party members to a very pretty one-night stand that stole all her gold to someone claiming to be her long lost brother. (He was not.) 

The point is, Dren is down to her last safe house. Which is more like a safe cave, a few days travel from Emon, and hidden behind a dead gorgon’s nest. The perfect creature really: no one wanted to risk stumbling across an open grave, the late owner’s eyes turning them to stone, and gorgons weren’t known to horde treasure.

She pulls Devan onto her bed, a blush burning in her cheeks. As a hidden cave designed for one, there isn’t any other furniture to place her on. Well, there’s a small table and dining chair, but they’re both made of stone. Dren pulls out the last healing potion left from their adventure, a superior, and carefully opens Devan’s mouth and pours it in. 

Devan wakes up with a gasp, hands reaching for something. 

“Easy! You’re safe, it’s okay. It’s all okay.” 

“How?” Devan asks, “Where are we?” 

“Safe, my cave- my safe cave.”

She lets out a disbelieving laugh, “We’re alive. I thought for sure they’d-- you saved me.” 

“Well yeah, you and me against the world right?” 

“Yeah,” Devan agrees, sitting up slowly. Her eyes are drawn to the table, the book and gem out. 

Dren bites her lip, still hasn’t decided if the new plan is good or bad. “I think I should bring them to the Clasp.” 

“No!” 

“I’ll tell them how crazy the house was, that everyone else died-” 

“Babe, you’re a terrible liar-” 

“-how I can’t keep working for the Clasp after seeing my- my fearless leader die and-” 

“Dren!” Devan exclaims, grabbing her hands. “We both know the Clasp never lets go.”

“But if we ever sell the jewel, they’ll know at least one of us is alive. They’d hunt us down.” 

“Then we keep it,” Devan says, the words coming out far easier than they should. It isn’t the sensible play, and her grandmother taught her to always go for those. She knows the Shrew won't waste resources on a wild goose chase to retrieve her goods, they're safe on that front. The smart move would be to convince Dren to sell the gem on her own and run away, use the ledger for some blackmail. The smarter move would be to kill Dren now, while she’s still unsuspecting, her gut only a short stab away. 

The world believes them dead, killing Dren would make for a seamless transition into a new life. Even if she only got half the gem’s worth, it’d be plenty to keep her gambling until the Clasp found her. Or she could try and stop for good, maybe work on her spellwork. Or get a boring and safe job, a shop assistant perhaps, somewhere so dull no adventurer comes through. 

Gran taught her to trust no one, how to survive. But she’s never been good at taking Gran’s lessons to heart; it isn’t a coincidence that her house nearly killed her. 

“We keep the jewel and the ledger, and we run far, far away,” Devan says. 

Dren’s face lights up, leans in to kiss her. She tastes like stale food and blood, but there’s freedom too, happiness- more happiness than Devan ever dreamed of. 

.

(Dren takes to whispering haikus at night, claims not to have the voice for a lullaby. Devan’s favorite, though she pretends they all are when Dren asks, is: 

_you and me, we go_  
_by air, by sea, by land, we-_  
_always we, my love_ )


End file.
